


in your eyes, i see a universe

by DobbyRocksSocks



Series: WinterIron [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: He lives for his tech, M/M, The world is almost all gone because apocalypse, Tony is a little... socially inept, apocalypse!AU, idk how to tag this at all, no powers, so people do be dead here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 09:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DobbyRocksSocks/pseuds/DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: When a virus wipes out most of the world, Tony is left with just his bots for company. When he eventually leaves the house in search of food, he finds himself in the company of an oddly compelling group of people.Never has Tony cared about people, but... these people might be an exception to his rule. Or... at least one of them, anyway.





	in your eyes, i see a universe

 

He grew up knowing he was different. He’d never been a homebody, but most people formed some attachment to the place they lived, to the people they knew, to the things around them. 

Tony never did. At least… not until he learnt how to build. 

His first bot, DUM-E, was the first thing to inspire any emotion in Tony. He loved the annoying little shit almost as soon as he heard the first forlorn beep. 

When Tony realised that finally, finally he could have a connection to something, he quickly set about making more. U and then Butterfingers followed along close behind Dummy, and then, his brightest creation of all, JARVIS. 

Tony  _ cried  _ when his AI greeted him for the first time. 

Howard, Tony’s father, hated the bots. He called Tony names, said he was egotistical to think that the only things worth paying attention to were things he’d invented himself. 

Twice, he tried to destroy DUM-E, until Tony in a fit of rage, threatened to slice his neck. Something on his face must have told Howard that Tony wasn’t joking, because with a pallid face, he left the room and didn’t ever make a threat against the bots again. 

In fact, he distanced himself even more than he’d already been from Tony, refusing to even remain in the same room as him for too long. 

Tony’s mother never really seemed to notice, or if she did, she never said anything about it to Tony. While they’d never had the best relationship, Tony knew his mom loved him. 

He’d grown up listening to her tell him tales of the world, a world he would love to see if only given the chance. She told him of the vineyards in Italy, and the winding cobblestone streets of Venice. She spoke of the Eiffel tower, and the Great Wall of China, and the Taj Mahal. 

He loved to listen to her speak for hours at a time, and it was one of the few things he didn’t tire of in his childhood. 

She taught Tony many of the life lessons he lived by too, although he wasn’t sure if she ever realised that when she’d been alive. 

“Every person you look at, you can see the universe in their eyes, if you’re really looking,” she’d told him. He’d bought enough sunglasses to wear a different pair every day of the month the day after. 

It was the best thing she’d taught him, to shield his eyes as a barrier against the world. A protection against others seeing his weaknesses and using them against him. 

When the world fell, his parents were among the first to perish. Tony watched on the news as more people became victim to the virus sweeping across both the nation and the world. 

He felt regret for their deaths, he did, but he didn’t mourn. People died, it was what they did, what they were always meant to do. 

The panic was widespread and loud, the mainstream media declaring it the end of the world for all to see. Stability was lost, and slowly but surely, society crumbled. There was no villain to blame, no way to fight the vicious mysterious virus. 

There was panic, and there was death, and there was no inbetween. 

Tony had no idea how he hadn’t fallen to it. He’d been ready to die. He was curious as to what came next, if anything at all. And yet, he lived. There was a small number on the planet that did, though nobody could work out how or why that happened. 

It seemed to be luck, or chance, though with so few left after the dust settled, nobody expected the earth to remain populated for long. 

Tony remained in the mansion he’d grown up in until the food ran out. He had no reason to venture out, not until he had to. When he did, it was to an eerie silence. 

There were nearby shops, windows already smashed, and innards a mess, that still had some food. The looters that had taken their chance hadn’t been able to take everything. Tony filled his backpack and returned to the mansion. 

He’d managed to wire the place, gained some small amount of power—enough to keep his food fresh and a few lights around. Enough to run JARVIS, and for his bot’s charging plates to work. They’d been the only thing Tony had worried about. 

It lasted almost a year, before the food ran out. Tony had attempted to grow his own food, but he didn’t have the patience or the temperament for it, and he’d long since given up the attempt. Instead, he thought to venture out further. 

He knew he’d be alone—he certainly couldn’t afford to take his bots with him, though he’d managed to design a portable uplink for JARVIS to remain with him, at least for a time. 

When he left the mansion, it felt like an odd sort of freedom. 

For all of his life, he’d been in the mansion, free to roam the nearby towns but always expected back by the time night fell. 

At twenty two, Tony had never been away from the mansion for longer than a single night, and that was on a trip with his father when he’d been a boy. 

Tony travelled far, much further than ever before. He spent his days walking, and his nights bunkering down wherever he could find shelter. 

JARVIS kept him company, helped him fill the too silent air with noise as he walked, and it was closer to an imagined perfection than Tony had ever found before. 

As Tony left the towns for the countryside, he found himself following the fragrant air to a field of flowers he’d never seen.

He found apple trees, berry bushes, and once, a potato field. 

Into new towns, and he found packaged food, bottled water, and even cigarettes and alcohol in a barely touched small shop on an out of the way road. 

Each time, he took as much as he could conceivably carry. 

During all of this, for well over two months, Tony didn’t run into another human. 

He saw animals, dogs, cats, rabbits, deer once he got deeper into the country. He thought that he saw a wolf one night, but was half convinced he’d imagined it—there had been a period of time in which he’d struggled to keep himself hydrated. 

The lack of humanity, Tony was sure, was what led to his entire body freezing when he heard unexpected voices one early morning, while foraging a new store for food. 

Tony hadn’t believed he’d run into anyone. Perhaps a stupid belief, in hindsight, but after so long of finding nobody… he’d perhaps sunk into a false sense of security. His paranoia had eased, had let him be caught.  

Not that they actually caught him. 

Tony got away, with no one the wiser than he’d ever been there. 

He thought to move on, but his curiosity be damned, he remained. He even, on one particularly adventurous morning, followed the voices for a time, watching from a safe distance with JARVIS murmuring in his ear the entire time. 

It, embarrassingly,  took two weeks to realise that the people actually still lived in the area. There were five of them, four men and one woman, and they seemed to be shacked up together in a modest building that edged the nearby forest. 

Curiosity as sated as it would ever get without actually speaking to them, Tony planned to move on. 

He almost made it, too. 

… 

“You’ve been following us.” 

Tony whirled around, his knife sliding from the holster on his arm into his hand immediately. Only two of the five stood in front of him, but Tony wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the others wouldn’t be around somewhere nearby. 

“It’s alright, we’re not going to hurt you.” 

It was the man who spoke, and he had kind eyes. Turquoise almost, but maybe a little darker. He was tall, built and blond. The woman standing beside him seemed almost dainty in comparison, but Tony could see the wiry strength in her arms, and her eyes told tales of strength and determination. 

Tony refused to underestimate her. 

The blond man was smiling at him, and he held his hands up in the universal sign for peace, but Tony didn’t trust him for a moment. Tony took a step back, angling himself towards the back door. He wondered if he should take the chance and make a break for it, but a noise in the back told him that he hadn’t been wrong about the others being around. 

“If you’re not going to hurt me, why are you surrounding me?” he asked. 

“We just want to know who you are,” the man said. 

“And if you’re a threat that we need to be worried about,” the woman added.

“Well. I’m just leaving, so… you don’t need to worry about me at all.” 

She regarded him cooly. 

“Are you alone?” The man asked, and Tony rolled his eyes. 

“Yes.” 

“You could  stay… if you wanted? Nobody should be completely alone in the world, especially not now. It’s not safe.” 

“Thanks for the offer but I’m good.” 

Tony slid the knife back up his sleeve, confident that they probably weren’t going to attack him, and hefted his backpack up onto his shoulder more securely. 

“It was… Well. Bye.” 

Tony turned for the back door and stepped out of it, unsurprised to see two of the other men from the group loitering there. 

Tony stepped past them, didn’t even acknowledge their presence, and left the garden. As he closed the gate behind himself, he heard one of them murmur, “It  _ is  _ him. I told you it was Tony Stark!” 

Tony ran, all thoughts of a graceful exit forgotten. He didn’t care about grace so much as he cared about getting the hell out of there before they could catch up with him. 

Before the virus, he was used to being recognised. He’d been the sole heir to one of the most powerful technology companies in the world, Stark Industries, and the world had kept a close eye on him. 

Not that he’d ever cared. He didn’t particularly care about the company either, though he’d always planned to take the reins when his father was ready to hand them over. Now it was a moot point of course, but he was used to people recognising him. 

Except… it seemed different now. 

With so few people left, he should be just as nameless as the rest of them. To hear his name whispered in such excited tones made him nervous and twitchy and he didn’t particularly care for the feeling. 

“You sure can move when you want to.” 

Tony closed his eyes and sighed. He’d stopped to catch his breath, sure that they wouldn’t have tried to follow him. 

“What do you want?” 

“My friend, he has a problem, and we think maybe you could fix it.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “What on earth makes you think I would  _ want  _ to?” 

“Well, kid, it’s been a while since you’ve had company. I think being around us for a little while could do you some good.” 

“Kid?” Tony turned around to find himself face to face with the smallest of the bunch. He had brown hair and brown eyes and seemed quite plain, if not for the warmth in his eyes. 

“Eh, you’re all kids to me, I’m old.” 

“You’re barely thirty, you idiot.” 

Tony looked over the man’s shoulder to see the blond man who’d spoken to him earlier walking up at a slow pace. 

“Sorry about back at the house, Mr Stark,” the man said. “I didn’t even think to introduce myself. I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.” 

Tony just stared at him. He didn’t care for their names, didn’t want to speak with them, let alone stick around to help one of them. 

“Well, like I said, thanks but no thanks.” 

He turned but a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Please, kid. Bucky, he’s got one of the Stark Industries prosthetics… he could really use your help.” 

Tony stopped trying to free his shoulder. The prosthetic line had been his, right from the very beginning. His father hadn’t been interested, but he hadn’t stopped Tony either. Just like his bots, Tony felt an affinity for every single one of the limbs he crafted by hand. 

He’d never met anyone who’d received one of the limbs, and now he  _ wanted.  _ He wanted to see it attached and in action. 

“Come on, kid. It’s not like you’ve got anywhere to be, is it?” 

Tony rolled his eyes but slowly turned back to face them. “Which one of you is it?” 

“Long dark hair, always wears long sleeves.” 

Tony nodded. “Stop calling me kid and I’ll come and have a look.” 

The blond seemed to deflate with relief. “Thank you, Mr Stark.” 

Tony shook his head. “Tony.” 

The one who kept calling him kid grinned. “Clint.”

Tony nodded, and then waved his hand in front of him impatiently. “Lead on then, I don’t have all day to just stand around.” 

Clint grinned. 

… 

On the way, Tony learnt that the woman’s name was Natasha, and the dark skinned man was named Sam, and then of course, there was Bucky. 

Steve and Bucky have been friends since childhood, and they met the other three a few weeks after the virus wiped out most of the world. What had started out as necessity had grown into friendship, and the five of them were a close knit self made family. 

Clint wove the tale in the same way his mother once had, and while he pretended that he wasn’t interested, Tony paid close attention to every single word. 

They reached the house, and Tony followed them inside slowly, looking around. He was led through, and then out again, into the spacious garden behind the house. The space was used well, and there were plenty of vegetables and fruit growing, ripe for the picking. 

Bucky, or so Tony assumed, was lounging back in a garden chair, watching Tony approach with appraising eyes. 

Tony stopped in front of him and stared at his left arm, waiting. 

“What, not even a conversation?” Bucky asked, his tone teasing. 

“Hi. Now can I see it?” 

Bucky snorted, but he pulled up his sleeve to show off the silver prosthetic. 

Tony was  _ horrified.  _

“What’ve you  _ done  _ to it?” he gasped, eyes grazing over the many scuffs and scratches on the surface. 

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Battle scars,” he said, though he looked a little unsure of himself. “It’s been a hard year.” 

Tony glowered down at it for a long moment before he sighed. “What problems are you having with it? I can see that the wrist needs calibrating, but what else?” 

“How… how did you know that?” 

“The plating is half a centimeter over from where it should be.” 

“I. Yeah, the wrist, the thumb, and the elbow joint,” Bucky said quietly. “They jam up sometimes, and the elbow locks into awkward positions for hours at a time.” 

Tony nodded. “Do you have tools here? I have some with me but… I don’t think I have enough for… this.” 

“We have some,” Steve said, nodding like an eager puppy. “I’ll get them for you and bring them out—” 

“No. I need a proper workstation with decent lighting. It’s going to start getting dark out soon and I won’t be able to see shit.” 

“Lighting will be problematic without electricity, no?” Clint asked, head tilted to the side. “Looks like you’re staying the night, Kid.” 

Tony glared at him. 

Clint just grinned. 

… 

“You’re so focused,” Bucky commented, the following morning when Tony arranged his makeshift workstation. 

“You know there’s no major rush for this, right? It’s not like anything pressing is happening.” 

Tony scowed. “There is a rush because you  _ destroyed it  _ and it needs  _ fixing.”  _

He worked slowly, taking each piece off and placing it delicately to the sides. He would have to buff the scratches out of the metal too, because the scratches and marks physically hurt him to look at them. 

Bucky tried to engage him a few times, but Tony mostly ignored the chatter. He wasn’t particularly interested in the person attached to the arm. As in the rest of his life, Tony couldn’t bring himself to be interested in humanity—especially not when there was technology to work on.  

“It already feels much better,” Bucky said, hours later when Tony was finished unjamming the elbow. “Thank you, Tony.” 

Tony nodded. He wanted to carry on working, but Bucky was firmly done for the day, and Tony worried that he’d tell Tony to bugger off if he pushed too hard. 

With hours left in the day, Tony didn’t really know what he was supposed to do with himself. Clint and Sam both tried to engage him, but Tony had never been great at conversation even when it was expected of him in his youth, and after spending so much time alone, he was even worse at it. 

Instead, he went and hid in the garden, and activated his earpiece for JARVIS. 

The soothing tones of his AI instantly settled his nerves. He spoke softly, telling JARVIS about the prosthetic arm, and almost jumped out of his skin when Clint dropped down beside him. 

“Are you actually sat here talking to yourself?” 

Tony hesitated. 

Clint blinked and then his eyes zeroed in on the small earpiece. “Are you… talking  _ to  _ someone?” 

“It’s my AI. JARVIS.” 

“AI?” 

“Artificial Intelligence.” 

“How… how is he… I mean… What?” Clint trailed off and raised his hands in question. 

“He’s charged by solar power back at my house,” Tony explained reluctantly. “And the earpiece has a little solar panel so I can still talk with him when I’m not home.” 

“That… is awesome,” Clint announced. “You should take us to your house. I miss electricity. I miss television and music and… kettles.” 

Tony blinked. “You know that the broadcasters all went down, right? Even though I do have limited electricity at home… TV and radio isn’t actually a thing now?” 

Clint pouted and then cheered up. He was fascinating to watch. “But a kettle?” 

“Yes. I can power a kettle. But… fire heats water, so… you can still have hot water, you know?” 

“But convenience is kettles.” 

Tony snorted. 

“So… what’s the deal with the sunglasses? At first, I thought maybe you had light sensitivity outside, but Bucky said you didn’t take them off even when you were working on his arm. What’s up with that?” 

“I just wear them.” 

“Always?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why though?” 

Tony shrugged. “Habit. I always have.” 

Clint stared at him for a long moment. “Well, everyone has their quirks, I suppose. Anyway, I’m here to tell you that dinner is almost ready. You should come eat before Bucky and Steve get their mitts on the food, because those two can  _ eat.”  _

Tony didn’t really want to join them. He could have found something on his own—he was pretty sure he still had food in his backpack. He knew though, that if he didn’t eat with them, they’d think him rude. 

Normally he wouldn’t care about that in the slightest, but… the threat of having his access to Bucky’s arm revoked made him care. He had a deep seated need to put the arm to rights, to make it as good, if not better, than it had been before. 

It was what he did. 

Dinner was potatoes cooked on the fire in tinfoil. It was possibly the best thing Tony had ever eaten. He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

… 

It took Tony almost two weeks to fix Bucky’s arm. The limited time Bucky would sit for him made it much longer than it should have been, but finally, Tony did the last screw up on the final plate and had Bucky perform a series of stretches. 

“That… is amazing,” Bucky murmured when he was finished. “It’s never moved so easily, not even when I first had it fitted.” 

The compliment made Tony smile. 

Bucky’s eyes widened. “You… you should smile more.” 

Tony blinked. “I. Erm. I should go now.” 

Bucky frowned. “What?” 

“Well, I mean, your arm is done so—” 

“That doesn’t mean you have to leave!” Bucky argued. “You should, you know, stick around. Stay with us. We like you.” 

The idea that they could like him was so outlandish that Tony didn’t really know how to compute it. Why would they like him? He barely spoke to them, spent as little time with them as possible, and he was… odd. 

He opened his mouth a few times to reply, but he had no words to force out. He didn’t know what to say. 

“It’s not like you’ve got a schedule to follow now, is it?” Bucky asked. “None of us have.” 

“Well, no, but… I never really intended to stick around.” 

“Plans change,” Bucky pushed gently. “Will you have a better time out there on your own?” 

“I, uh. I don’t know.” 

Bucky reached up slowly, giving Tony chance to pull away. Tony didn’t understand what he was doing until it was too late to stop him, and Bucky gently pulled his sunglasses from his face. 

Their eyes met, and they stared at each other for a long moment. 

“You’ve got beautiful eyes, doll. You shouldn't hide them away so much.” 

Tony was, once more speechless. His mother had been right. He could see every lash framing Bucky’s eyes. He could see the slight differences in the brown flecks and the way Bucky’s pupil dilated slightly as they looked at each other for longer and longer. 

In Bucky’s eyes, he could see a universe. 

Tony took the sunglasses back and shoved them on his face, leaving the room as fast as his legs could carry him. Bucky called out to him but Tony ignored him. 

He grasped his backpack and shot out of the front door, running until he couldn’t run anymore. Nobody had followed him this time, and he slowed to a walk, activating JARVIS as he did. 

“Mom was right, J,” he murmured, heart pounding in his chest. “I saw a universe.” 

“Then why are you not still with Mr Bucky, Sir?” 

“What?” 

“If you have found a connection, why are you not still there?” 

“I… I… I think I’m scared, J.” 

“Scared of what, Sir?” 

“I’ve never… I don’t… I don’t get people. You know that, J. I never have. People… I don’t feel… things… for them.” 

“Perhaps you just needed to find your person, Sir.” 

Tony didn’t reply. Was Bucky really his person? Tony had always thought he didn’t have people, and honesty, he’d never truly wanted them. Machines, his bots, even JARVIS, they were all predictable in their ways, even when they weren’t. 

Humans were not.  

A quiet noise made Tony jump and he spun around only to stop and sigh with relief. A small cat, not much older than a kitten walked up towards him, meowing pitifully. It rubbed up against Tony’s leg, leaving little hairs on his trousers. 

Tony crouched slowly and pulled his bag from his back. He pulled out a bottle of water and a half empty plastic box, emptying the contents of it into his bag. He poured the water and watched as the cat immediately lapped at it. 

When it had drank it’s fill, it moved back other to Tony and nudged his hand until Tony realised it wanted stroking. 

It was… cute. 

Ginger and white fur, and bright eyes. 

Bucky would love it. 

And just like that, Tony knew he was screwed. 

… 

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” 

Tony slowly pushed his sunglasses up to his head and looked at Bucky. “I uh, don’t think I was planning too, but… I found this little guy and though… well. I thought you’d like him. I remember, you said you liked cats so…” 

He handed the cat over carefully into Bucky’s gentle hands and watched the man coo over it for a moment. 

“I didn’t even think you were listening while I prattled on,” he said, looking up at Tony again. 

“I listened,” Tony murmured. “I just… don’t know how to, erm, people?” 

Bucky snorted, and shifted the cat into his metal hand, holding it firmly but softly. He held his flesh hand out for Tony to take.  Tony took it, and was tugged until he was pressed up against Bucky’s side. 

“Stay?” 

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.” 

…

Tony cried when DUM-E whirred towards him, the minute he walked into the workshop. He’d been so worried that something could have happened to his bots while he’d been away, and to see his first made again was wonderful and painful all at the same time. 

It had taken Bucky and Clint quite a while to convince Tony to take them to his home, to meet his bots. Tony hadn’t been sure if he wanted to go back at all. He’d missed his bots so much but the freedom he’d found would be hard to give up. 

Bucky stood back, watching the reunion with fondness. When Tony looked at him, he could see a little bit of concern in his eyes, but he couldn’t focus on it, not right then. 

Eventually, Bucky left, rejoining the others to explore the house and grounds. Steve had been eager to begin planting their first batches of vegetables. 

Hours passed without Tony’s notice, until eventually, exhaustion beckoned. He sent the bots back to their plates, and stood, groaning at the aches in his joints that came from sitting on the floor so long. 

He found Bucky in the kitchen, sitting at the table with his head in his hands. Tony stroked his hand over the joint between prosthetic and skin. 

“You okay?” 

Bucky startled beneath his touch and looked up, twisting his neck to look around at Tony. 

“I’m… I thought maybe, now that you’re back here with your bots… I thought, erm—” 

“You thought I’d ditch you the moment I got back in my workshop,” Tony said, because in the spirit of fairness, it wasn’t a completely unreasonable worry. 

Bucky nodded, leaning back so he was resting against Tony’s stomach. Tony wrapped his arms around both of Bucky’s shoulders. 

“I can’t promise that there won’t be days when I prefer just the company of my bots,” he murmured. “But I’ll always come back to you Buck. Always. You were the only person I ever found a universe in.” 

Bucky turned and buried his face against Tony’s stomach. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

And things weren’t suddenly fixed. The world was still a mostly barren waste, and they were probably all going to die, but Tony didn’t care about any of that. He had his bots, and he had Bucky, and he even had the others (though admittedly he wasn’t always sure that was a good thing). 

In a world gone to hell, Tony had found his own little slice of heaven.

 


End file.
